Things Are Different Now
by TheWayThingsCouldBe
Summary: Everyone copes differently with the news of Donnie's death. Things are different now, and Gretchen Ross feels like there's a lot more to the story than anyone is willing to admit. An alternate and extended ending to the cult classic, Donnie Darko.
1. The Aftermath

_This is my first attempt at Donnie Darko fanfiction. The main idea behind this story is that within the world of Donnie Darko, anything is possible. I wrote this because I felt like this could have happened. It's basically an alternate ending to my favorite movie, Donnie Darko._

_I'm kind of an amateur at writing, so bear with me. If you have any constructive criticism, please let me know. I'm just starting out at this and I'm not really sure what I'm doing. My thoughts are kind of scattered and the story jumps around a lot... I hope you guys don't mind and I apologize in advance._

_And finally, I don't own Donnie Darko or it's beautifully-crafted storyline or it's characters- please don't sue me. I also don't own_ Lord of the Rings. _This is all just me venting creatively... I hope you like this._

* * *

"Promise me you'll try to be safe," Gretchen heard her mother's voice as she stepped out onto her new porch, still littered with cardboard moving boxes. 

"Yes, Mom," she said, but she didn't mean it. _Why don't you try to be safe Mom?_ she wished she had the courage to say out loud. _Why don't you think things out a little better before you marry a convicted felon? Before you welcome him into _our_ home and let him hurt you…_

She just wanted to be out of there. She had never wanted to move, but it was the only way to get away from that psychopath back home. She felt safe here, at least. Kind of. She woke up feeling… off.

She couldn't remember what she dreamed last night, but she was struggling to recall any bit of it she could. She remembered that she _had_ dreamt-it felt like she had for a month straight- but not what the dream was about. Just that it started out leaving her feeling all warm inside and left her waking up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath.

It was a sunny Virginia Sunday morning. Gretchen's first. She had just moved here last night. She didn't know where anything was. It didn't take her long to realize that her best bet of getting acquainted with Middlesex would be to hop on her bike and take a ride around town.

This place was nice, she guessed, but it would never be _home._ She looked around at the people jogging, chatting on corners, making nice. Things were strange here. And up ahead there were news vans and a fire truck and a couple of police cars… what was going on?

She pedaled up to the two-story house, passing a huge truck tugging a large plane's engine behind it. The house was barricaded and a couple dozen people stood outside the house. A lot of them were crying. It took her a while to take it all in.

"What's going on here?" she asked an eleven-year old kid on the curb who was watching the story unfold.

"Horrible accident," he replied. "My neighbor… they say he got killed."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. They say they… can't find the body. But it's there, they're saying. A jet engine came crashing through the roof. He got smooshed."

"What was his name?"

"Donnie. Donnie Darko," the kid replied.

"Donnie Darko? That's an… interesting name. It's like some kind of superhero or something…"she started but then her heart skipped a beat and her mind's eye flashed _(What makes you think I'm not?) _and then she was grounded again. She blinked heavily, trying to wash off that odd feeling this was giving her.

"I just feel bad for his family," the kid shrugged and then took off.

"Yeah…" she sighed as she stared over at them. She had known right away which ones they were.

_Maybe they're sadder than everyone else, you've always had the ability to pick that up_ she told herself, but she knew that wasn't it.

Donnie's mom (that's who she was, Gretchen was sure of it) was leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. She seemed familiar somehow.

_Rose recognizes me too_ Gretchen told herself when his mother looked over and saw her. She didn't know how she knew her name. But she was sure it was right. She waved at Rose, not really expecting a response but she waved back, confusedly, yes, but there was some kind of intangible familiarity there that couldn't be ignored.

She had the wild urge to go over there and tell Donnie's mom that everything was going to be okay, but she let it go. She didn't know that anything would be okay. This mother had just lost her son, and a stranger's condolences weren't going to make it any better.

Gretchen didn't like this. Everything felt too familiar. And yet, nothing at all like things were back home. She wished she had someone to call, someone to talk to, but she had no one.

Gretchen decided that his had been enough excitement for the day. Tomorrow would be here first day at Middlesex Ridge School and she thought maybe it'd be best to just go home and rest beforehand.

She had decided during the plane ride to Virginia that she was going to be herself here. Since elementary school she had put on a façade to fit in with the cool kids. Being popular certainly had its benefits: the cutest boys, the best parties, the coolest friends- but that wasn't what she wanted anymore. Now she just wanted to make life worth living, something beautiful and safe, and maybe if she were herself she'd find someone else who could share that dream with her.

When she got home she went quietly upstairs. Her mom didn't notice her sneak up to her room and she was able to daydream and collect her thoughts for a long while before her mother could realize she was home and begin to trouble her again.

* * *

"I just… can't believe what happened," Miss Pomeroy told Dr. Monnitoff the next day. All around the school the teachers and students were buzzing with gossip of what had happened to Donnie. "One week he's there and you come back after the weekend and… he's gone." 

"Things like this happen, Karen, you can't dwell on them," Monnitoff tried to comfort her, but the tension in his voice indicated that he was just as freaked as she was. There was a pause, then "Did you know that they have no idea where the engine came from? And they can't find his body." He was clutching something tightly to his chest. "It's all very bizarre."

"Kenneth… what is that?" she asked, looking in for a closer look of the object he was holding.

"Uh… just a book," he let her see it. "It's called _The Philosophy of Time Travel._ I kind of dreamt about it the other night. Seemed… important then but I guess it's kind of silly."

"No, not at all. Dreams are… the portal to your soul." Monnitoff raised an eyebrow at her but she held fast. "You know, the night before the accident… I dreamt about Donnie."

Monnitoff gave her a look. "You're kidding me."

"No… why would you say that?"

"I... kind of did too. He asked about this book. In my dream, I mean…"

"Can I see that?" she asked. He handed her the dusty book. She glanced it over. "Roberta Sparrow wrote this?"

He nodded. "You know, before she was "Grandma Death" she was…"

"A nun and then a science teacher, I know… can I borrow this?"

"Um… sure," he said, a bit taken aback. "But read it soon, I'm kind of curious to finish it myself."

She shoved it in her purse alongside the collection of Graham Greene's short stories.

* * *

"Principal Cole, this is Jim Cunningham," Mrs. Farmer reluctantly introduced the men. 

"From what Kitty's told me, your program is excellent," the principal shook hands with Jim. "She's told me it would be a valuable addition to our curriculum."

"Oh, absolutely," Jim responded, looking far off. He hadn't quite recovered from a nightmare two nights ago that had recurred last night. "Children are troubled… misguided. And they need our help."

Cole was studying him. "That's always been my main concern. And you believe that the children will really benefit from your program?"

"Well, yes," Jim responded, stumbling over the words. "You know, I, love children," he coughed, "not in a weird way, mind you, in a purely platonic way…"

"Right," Principal Cole said to stop him from speaking any further. "Well, as much as I think your program would benefit the kids, and I think it really would, I don't really think it's appropriate for integration into our physical education program."

Kitty breathed an audible sigh of relief. Jim didn't notice. He was still very distant.

"Well, I understand," Jim said, now sweating noticeably. "I think I'll be going now," he awkwardly added before taking off.

They watched him almost run toward the parking lot

The principal turned to Miss Farmer. "I'm sorry, I know you were very invested in this program but he just didn't seem… wholesome to me."

"No, I understand completely," she replied, looking downward. "There's definitely something… off about him. I'm sorry I wasted your time."

The bell rang. "Well I guess class is starting," Mrs. Farmer said. "I'll be off."

"It was good talking to you, Kitty," he said, surprised by her change in attitude since the previous week. She nodded and began toward the physical education classroom.

* * *

When the second bell rang, Miss Pomeroy stood in front of the class. Today was going to be difficult for a number of reasons. She looked at Donnie's empty desk and held back tears. 

"Class…" she started. "How many of you actually read "The Destructors" this weekend?" Only Joanie James raised her hand.

"Oh really?" Pomeroy raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "What was it about?"

"People who were… destructive…" Joanie made-up, looking down and blushing when the class laughed at her response.

"No, Joanie," she sighed. "I've decided that we're not going to read it." The class cheered. She was a bit ashamed of her choice. Given Donnie's recent accident, though, it didn't seem appropriate.

The kids would get the short story, she thought. But parents wouldn't really appreciate what she was teaching their kids. They wouldn't get that it's supposed to be ironic. This book would only bring her trouble…

"So what are we going to be reading instead?" Ronald asked.

"I've decided that you're going to choose your own novels and read them independently," she said. "Just, everyone, check in with me to make sure it's appropriate…"

The door opened and Gretchen Ross stepped inside.

"May we help you?" Ms. Pomeroy asked.

"Yeah, umm, I just registered and I think they put me in the wrong English class."

Miss Pomeroy looked her over. "You look like you belong here."

"Umm… where do I sit? she asked.

"This seat up here," she motioned at Donnie's old seat. _Maybe it's a little bit premature for you to be replacing his seat_ she thought afterward, but she had made her decision.

She sat down in her designated seat and sat her book bag down beside her. She placed her hands on the desk in front of her.

She winced from a sudden sharp pain in her head. When she opened her eyes she wasn't in her seat, but Joanie's. To her right there was a handsome, dark-haired boy. He was turning toward her, staring and smiling. _Donnie!_ she thought. She blinked another time and she was looking to her right, out the window.

She shivered at averted her attention to Miss Pomeroy, who was writing something across the chalk board in perfect white letters.

* * *

"Frank… what are you doing?" Elizabeth asked him, exasperated when she walked into his room. 

"I'm getting rid of this stupid thing," he said, tossing the metal mask in a wastebasket.

"What? Why? You've been working on that thing for months!"

"Just, don't ask, Liz. I'm not doing the bunny thing this year. It's a bad idea."

"Okay, I won't," she said, sitting down.

There was a long, awkward silence as he sat down next to her.

"Liz, I dreamt about your brother," Frank suddenly said, rushed. "And I was wearing the suit and I was telling him to do all of these things, and then he killed me…"

"Whoa, wait there," she said, tearing up hearing this. "You're just freaking out, we all are…"

"He saved the world by dying, Liz," he gasped. "He saved us all," he stared at her, tears streaking down his face.

"You're starting to scare me Frank," she pulled back when he grabbed her hand.

"Elizabeth, I want to meet your parents," he said.

She smiled faintly. "Frank, we went over this, I can't…"

He moved in and kissed her. She was caught off guard.

"Liz…" he said when he broke off the kiss, "you never know what's going to happen. Life is short. And I want your parents to know me. I want to be… part of the family, you know?"

"But… we agreed you'd meet them after I went off to college…"

He grasped her hand tighter. "This is important to me."

"What's gotten into you?" Elizabeth asked, stunned. He slowly turned his sight of vision to the wastebasket in the corner and said nothing.

* * *

"Hey, wait up," Gretchen called out to the girl walking home in front of her. She slowed down a bit and Gretchen caught up quickly. 

"Hi, I'm Gretchen Ross," she introduced herself. "We have most of our classes together, I think. Your name is Cherita, right?"

"Yes… is this a trick?" Cherita asked, grasping a textbook close to herself.

"What? No… just, I don't know anybody here and you seemed cool."

Cherita gave her a skeptical look, but she could tell after a second that Gretchen was being genuine.

"Thank you. I do not have many friends. They think I am strange."

"I don't think you're strange," Gretchen smiled. "And I think it will be safer if we can watch each other's backs."

Cherita gave a rare smile, but it faded quickly when she looked down at her book. _I promise that one day things are going to get better for you_ she heard Donnie's voice in her head as she read his name written across the book. He had never told her that, but she felt it in her heart and she knew that the voice was right.

* * *

Dr. Lilian Thurman paced back and forth across her empty office. There was only so much she could recall through searching her own dreams. She wished that she could study someone close to Donnie without being too obtrusive, but that seemed impossible. 

She closed her eyes and sat down in the patient's chair for the first time, thinking maybe being in such a position would help her reveal something about herself. She was trying to recall any bit of information that would help her. A plush toy resembling a dog was set across the chair. She took it in her hands _I met a girl, Gretchen, we're going together now…_ she heard. She dropped the toy, shocked, and got back to pacing.

* * *

Gretchen went back later that day to the Darko home. The media coverage was dying down but the F.A.A. search for Donnie's body was still running strong. Something had collapsed and it was making the recovery especially difficult. 

Rose was there again, smoking a cigarette, anxious to be there when they found Donnie's body among the wreckage. She was talking to an older woman who seemed very concerned. Gretchen approached them when they took a brief pause from talking, not wishing to interrupt.

"Hello," she said timidly, realizing this was a difficult time. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Darko."

"Thank you," Rose said, studying her. "Were you a friend of Donnie's? You look… very familiar."

"Uh, no, I never met him. I moved here Saturday night, actually… my name is Gretchen."

The older woman nearly jumped. "Excuse me, did you say your name was Gretchen?" she asked.

"Um… yes," she replied, confused.

"Could I… speak to you personally for a moment?"

"Sure," she said without much enthusiasm but aware that something strange was afoot.

"And when I clap my hands twice, you will wake up, do you understand?" Dr. Thurman asked.

"Yes," Gretchen responded with her eyes closed, leaning against a tree out of the view of passersby.

"Do you remember being with Donald? Anything at all?"

"He was my boyfriend," she replied in a child-like voice. "And my best friend. I loved him."

"When did you meet him?"

"I met him today. Only, not today, it was different."

"How was it different?"

"He wasn't dead," she said, beginning to cry. "Things are different now."

"How did this happen?"

"Time travel," she giggled even though she was crying. "He did it so we could be okay."

Dr. Thurman was quiet so Gretchen might expound.

"We slept together on October 30th," Gretchen stated. "That was before it happened."

"Before what happened?" she asked, with other questions on her mind, but this was the most pressing one.

"We went to Grandma Death's house and we ran into Seth and Ricky and then," she started to gasp, "and then I died."

"You… died?" Dr. Thurman asked, afraid of what might happen next.

"I got hit by a car. It was Frank."

_I met a new friend… His name is Frank… He said to follow him… into the future…_

She was bawling now. Dr. Thurman clapped twice.

"Wha…?" Gretchen asked, disoriented. When she realized what was going on she wiped away the tears. "What did you find out?" she asked.

"Nothing for sure," Dr. Thurman responded. There were some things it might be best not to tell her about, especially if Donnie was dead. "But you _did_ know Donnie. Somehow, I don't really understand. You said it was time travel."

"But if I time traveled… wouldn't I remember?"

"Perhaps. I can grasp what's going on here about as well as you can. You also mentioned someone called "Grandma Death" and that you went to her house. Does this sound familiar?"

Gretchen shook her head. "Well, I hope you figure out what's been going on. I'm curious," Gretchen said.

"Me too," Dr. Thurman answered. "Thank you for allowing me a peek into your mind. I think I need to go now to think about what you said. I might have some answers in the morning."

"No problem," Gretchen responded and waved Dr. Thurman goodbye.

* * *

"Miss Pomeroy," Gretchen said when she saw her teacher approaching the house. "What are you doing here?" 

"I just wanted to speak with Mrs. Darko about her son. I called the hotel and her husband said she was here…"

"She actually left for a little while to pick up something to eat," Gretchen informed Miss Pomeroy. "Were you close to Donnie?"

"In a way," Pomeroy said, reminiscing. "He was my favorite student. So intelligent… he just didn't always apply himself as much as he could. He had so much potential…" her voice trailed for a second. "It's a shame he's gone." She looked down at Gretchen, who seemed far off in thought. "How long have you been here?"

"Hours," Gretchen responded. It was beginning to get late.

"You… you didn't even know him, did you?" Miss Pomeroy asked her.

"No, not really," she said, though the feeling that she did was growing stronger with every passing hour.

Miss Pomeroy closed her eyes. There was a long silence before she spoke. "At last all such things must end, but I would have you wait a little while longer: for the end of the deeds that you have shared in has not yet come," she then recited from memory.

Gretchen nodded. "What is that?" she asked.

"Oh, just something from _The Return of the King_, you know, _The Lord of the Rings_."

"Oh. Well, I like it. Sort of… a reminder that just because something is done doesn't mean it's the end."

The teacher nodded back. "I love Tolkien. He had such a way with words… he wasn't just an author, but a linguist as well. He invented languages for his books, trying to make them sound as beautiful as possible."

"That's a really neat idea… a language where every word is beautiful."

"You know, he once said that that of all the phrases in the English language, of all the endless combinations of words in all of history, that "cellar door" is the most beautiful."

Something clicked in Gretchen's mind. "Cellar door…" she said aloud.

"Yeah… pretty interesting, huh?" Karen said, looking at the house and the little progress that those searching for Donnie were making.

"Do you… have you heard of Grandma Death?" Gretchen asked.

"Yeah… her name is actually Roberta Sparrow. She…" a dawn of realization crept across Pomeroy's face. She reached into her purse and pulled out _The Philosophy of Time Travel. _"She wrote this."

When Gretchen touched it she heard Donnie's voice again.

_Roberta Sparrow… she wrote this… Will you come see her with me?_

"Do you know where she lives?" Gretchen asked.

"Out on Old Gun Road… why?"

"I know this is a lot to ask but… can you take me there?"

"Yes," she said without a moment's hesitation, unsure of why she was so certain.

* * *

Within fifteen minutes they were at Grandma Death's home. She was out in front of the mailbox, absorbed in a letter she was reading. Gretchen tried to get her attention but failed. 

She began to sneak around the side of the house.

"What the hell are you doing?" Miss Pomeroy asked.

"Cellar door," Gretchen responded. "There…" she pointed. There was the unlocked door into Roberta Sparrow's cellar.

"We really shouldn't be doing this, Gretchen… we're going to get caught…"

Gretchen didn't pay her any attention. She opened the cellar door and peered around inside.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Miss Pomeroy asked.

"I'm… not exactly sure," she said, looking around. The place seemed like it had been looted a thousand times. The only things left were lots of useless trinkets and a big piano in the center of the room. It was probably too large for any kid to steal on his own. She opened the piano and played a low key or two, unsure of what she was doing.

"It's very dark in here," Pomeroy stated. "Whatever you're looking for… you're not going to find it."

Then suddenly a great rush of air blew through the cellar and there was a bright flash and a bang.

"What was that?" Karen yelled out, looking around her. "Gretchen, are you okay?"

Gretchen had run over to the origin of the sound. She bent down next to it.

"Hey!" she yelled at the body when she realized what it was. "Hey…" she shook it back and forth. She didn't hear anything. "Wake up… please, wake up," she pleaded.

With a final shake the body coughed and gasped for air. She could see eyelashes fluttering in the dark, then a pair of clear blue eyes staring back up at her.

"Gretchen," Donnie's voice said weakly when he regained his breath.

"Donnie… you're okay, Donnie," she said, looking into his eyes as he regained consciousness.

"Oh my God…" Karen Pomeroy said, leaning in on his other side. "Donnie…"

"What are you looking at, Donnie?" Gretchen asked, concerned, when she saw that his eyes weren't focused on her but on a spot above her head. She looked over her shoulder and nothing was there.

"_You did it Donnie, you saved the world_," Frank in the bunny suit told him.

"But… how?" he said out loud.

"How what, Donnie?" Gretchen asked, confused.

"_You had to be willing to be a martyr_," Frank answered. "_You had to _believe._ But God loves his children Donnie. God loves you._"

"God… loves me," Donnie said out loud before passing out.

"Donnie… Oh my God, Donnie!" Gretchen cried out, much of what had happened in those other 28 days suddenly rushing back to her in a wave.

"He's still breathing, I think he's okay," Miss Pomeroy said, crying because she was so happy to see him alive. "Let's just get him out of here and…" she remembered a lot of what had happened in a rush as quickly as Gretchen's. She almost collapsed, overwhelmed.

"We should really get him to a hospital," Gretchen responded. With a little effort they both hoisted him up and got her into her car.

Roberta Sparrow was gone.


	2. Recovery

_Again, I don't own Donnie Darko. If I did, I'd be the happiest girl in the world._

* * *

"You guys… this is all really unnecessary," Donnie said from his hospital bed. Around him there were flowers, candy, balloons. All kinds of trinkets expressing how glad everyone was to see him alive.

Donnie had sustained a pretty major head injury. Luckily the doctors said there wouldn't be any permanent damage. Otherwise he had a lot of minor cuts and bruises.

Gretchen smiled at him. "No it's not. It's a celebration of your life. Like a birthday, just in October instead of May."

"You… you remember everything," he grinned.

"Not everything," she shook her head. "But, the party… I remember."

"What are you two talking about?" Rose Darko asked, sitting in a chair in the corner of the hospital room while Eddie and Samantha Darko stood in the corner around her. "I thought you didn't know each other."

"Well, we didn't. Not personally. We were… pen-pals," he lied.

"I never heard about any pen-pal," Rose said, looking over at Miss Pomeroy.

"Oh, yeah. For my class, the students had a pen-pal assignment. Kind of crazy coincidence she ended up moving here," Pomeroy stuck up for him. She winked at Donnie when Rose turned away.

"I'm glad you're okay, Donnie," Sam came over and hugged Donnie for the umpteenth time.

"Whoa, ow, stop," he told her.

"Sorry," she giggled. "I can't believe you're alive!"

"I can't either," he said smiling.

"Donnie, what the hell happened to you?" his dad finally asked, waiting too long and not receiving a reasonable explanation of what had happened. "It doesn't make any sense… you weren't in your room when that thing hit. Where were you?"

"I must've… sleepwalked for a while and got stuck someplace," he fibbed again. "I don't know how these guys found me. That's more of a freak accident than what happened to me, I think. But a good accident." Really he was sure that whatever had happened was much larger, much more significant. But he would never really understand it. Whatever had happened, though, was a good thing.

The door to his room opened.

"Oh my God, Donnie, I'm so glad to see you're alive!" Elizabeth Darko said. There were tears in her eyes but it couldn't be heard in her voice. She came over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Are you hurt?"

"A little," he said. "Well, it hurts a lot, but I'm doing great."

"Um… I want you to meet somebody…" she looked out the door. "Come in."

The door opened again. Donnie nearly jumped out of bed when he saw him.

"Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Frank," she said.

"So this is the boy you've been sneaking out with at night," Rose Darko stated with a smile. "It's good to meet you, Frank." Eddie seemed to know already too.

"You… you're… Frank," Donnie said, suddenly confused.

"You're Donnie," Frank said back. He was silent for a moment. "I… I got rid of the bunny suit."

"Oh… good," Donnie responded.

"I'm… sorry I made you do those things. Or… I don't know if it was really me, but… and I'm sorry about…" he stopped when he saw Gretchen. "You." She suddenly realized what he was talking about.

"I'm sorry I shot you," Donnie apologized.

"Yeah…" Frank trailed off, looking down.

The rest of the family looked on in confusion.

"Um… you know everybody, I'm kind of tired. Maybe we should just watch TV…" Donnie said, changing the subject as quickly as possible.

Gretchen turned the small television in the room to the local news station.

"_The boy was found, injured, away from his home and not actually murdered injured in the freak accident. The origin of the engine is yet to be found,"_ the family heard the end of the first news story end. Donnie blushed when everyone looked at him.

"_In a related story, 101-year old Roberta Sparrow was found dead today in her home."_ Donnie and Gretchen turned and stared at each other. "_She was found by local physics teacher Dr. Kenneth Monnitoff when he visited her home this afternoon. Coroners say that it was a natural death."_

"_I went to her house because I wanted to ask her something," Monnitoff said on the TV screen. "She didn't answer the door, so I checked inside. She was sitting on an old couch and she had a letter clutched in her hand… she was totally unresponsive when I tried to talk to her and soon I realized she had passed…"_

_The anchor went on "The note, interestingly enough, was written by the, until recently, missing Donnie Darko."_

Each face in the room turned to Donnie again. He shrugged, grabbing the remote. "You know, I think I'm done with the TV for today," she smiled sheepishly as he turned it off.

* * *

After a day Donnie was fully recovered out of the hospital and back to his normal life. 

After school he walked Gretchen and Cherita home. He noticed there was something different about Cherita now. She was more confident, more assertive. When Sean Smith was teasing her on Donnie's first day back she defended herself before Donnie could step in and threatened Sean. He stopped making fun of her after that, afraid of what might happen to him if he did.

They were walking for a bit before they passed Jim Cunningham's house.

"Hey, will you guys hold on for just a second?" he said when he realized where they were. They agreed.

Donnie walked up to Jim Cunningham's front door. His friends followed behind.

He rang the doorbell. Jim answered it, drunk, unshaven, and crying.

"_You_," Jim said in disgust, recognizing Donnie from his dream.

"Hey, Jim… you're looking really haggard," Donnie said, trying to be nice. "I… I know about your kiddie porn ring," he whispered. Jim's eyes grew. "And I know your life is going down the tubes… but there's help for people like you," Donnie said, taking a business card from his pocket. "Dr. Thurman is really good… she can help you."

He looked at it seriously for a second. His expression changed to a contorted smile. "Thank you," he finally said, slurred.

"Yeah. Good luck," Donnie said, turning around.

"What was that all about?" Gretchen asked.

"Just helping somebody out," Donnie responded, feeling good about himself. He pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and ticked a box.

"What… what is that? Gretchen asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Um… it's just a list. Of people that might kind of need my help."

Miss Pomeroy and Cherita's names were already ticked off the list. "Seems like things have kind of been sorting themselves out while I was gone."

"Why am I on the list?" Cherita asked when she noticed her name. She looked offended.

"I thought maybe you needed to stick up for yourself… but I've seen you," he smiled at her and she smiled in return. "You don't need my help anymore."

"It's thanks to you," Cherita said and then blushed. He grinned at her.

"And Miss Pomeroy?" Gretchen asked.

"Oh, she… she changed the curriculum. She can't lose her job now," Donnie recalled his reasoning.

"And that guy?" Gretchen pointed to Jim Cunningham's door.

"That guy's a freak," Donnie laughed as they left the driveway and were onto the sidewalk and continued walking. "Thought he needed some psychiatric help. And Dr. Thurman is the best."

"What's the last name on the list?" Gretchen tried to take a last peek at the slip of paper but he hid it as best he could.

"That's not important," he said, putting it back in his pocket.

"Let me see," she said, grabbing it away from him. "_Gretchen's mom?_" she asked, incredulous. "Why… what happens to my Mom?"

He didn't want to freak her out. Especially after everything that had happened.

"Gretchen, on the 30th… I think your step-dad finds you. Here. And I figured… I'll have my mom have some kind of dinner or something. We'll invite you and your mom, and you guys can be safe at our house and I'll call the police to watch your place."

"I don't understand," she shook her head. "What happens?"

"Something happens to your Mom, I don't know what, neither of us saw it."

They passed Cherita's house and she waved them adieu.

"But… didn't your sister have a party that night? Your mom was out of town."

"Well, she was out of town because she had to take my sister to her dance competition, right?" Gretchen nodded. "Well, that was because Mrs. Farmer couldn't take them. Now she can."

"How does that work?"

"Well, she couldn't go because she went to Jim Cunningham's arraignment for this whole big thing."

"Arraignment for what?"

"Child pornography charges."

She looked disgusted. "Okay… and… now he won't be having this arraignment?"

"Well, he's not going to get found out."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not going to burn his house down."

"Um… okay," she said, trying to absorb everything. Things were still coming back to her slowly. Still she was confused about why she could remember so much when the others recalled so little. She was glad, though. Most of these memories were something worth remembering. Something beautiful.

"You and your mom are going to be okay, Gretchen," Donnie promised, looking straight into her eyes. "And they're going to catch that sicko who hurt her."

"You really mean that," she smiled when she looked back.

The kiss that followed was his way of saying yes.


End file.
